Forever the Mockingjay
by Cordys-Vision
Summary: This isn't about Prim. Or even me. Because Prim is dead. And I am too old to be reaped into the Hunger Games. Then I am running again. And screaming. Running and screaming. Her name. His name. My daughter. My son.
1. Chapter 1

I see Gale Hawthorne smiling at me and all at once, I know where I am. My heart sinks into my stomach. My feet feel unsteady and my vision begins to blur. I know exactly where I am, and I'm terrified.

This is the 74th annual Hunger Games district 12 reaping. The place I enter in my nightmares. The place I can never escape from.

The air is too dry, too heavy, and I can't seem to get enough of it into my lungs to keep the oxygen flowing. My heart is racing, pounding against my chest.

I'm positive that it's going to pound its way out, fall on the ground in front of everyone. I can feel sweat beading up on my neck, my hands, my face…

No. No. No. I can not be here again. No. I just can't.

And then suddenly, nothing else matters except for finding her.

Finding Prim.

I push through the crowds of people and children, running my hardest. I dodge peacekeepers, and my mother, and Gale, and I still don't see her. The fear inside of me increases, but I'm not afraid for me anymore. Just her. I open my mouth to scream out her name, but my throat is too dry.

I am absolutely panicked now. I run harder, practically shoving people to the ground to find her and then very slowly, my heart rate begins to slow, and as I calm down I realize slowly that I recognize no one.

These are not the people I grew up with, apart from Gale, and even he looks different. Older.

Everything stops, like I'm on a merry-go-round that comes to an abrupt halt, as the truth of the matter sinks in.

This isn't about Prim.

Or even me.

Because Prim is dead.

And I am too old to be reaped into the Hunger Games.

My head swivels around, looking for blonde again, but this time in the form of a boy. He isn't in the crowd either.

And deep down, I know he isn't a boy anymore, either.

He's Peeta. My Husband.

Oh god.

Then I am running again. And screaming. Running and screaming.

Her name.

His name.

My daughter.

My son.

Because that, is what this is all about.

"Aria!"

I'm screaming. Running. Screaming. Running. Screaming.

Gale's staring at me with sad eyes. I wish he'd stop. Doesn't he understand how desperate I am? How terrible this is?

"Finn!"

The names are echoed, but of course not by me. By Effie, up on stage.

"For the girls: Aria Primrose Mellark."

"NO!" it's like my mouth can't form any other word.

"And for the boys: Finn Cylus Mellark.

No. No. No. No.

I'm running towards the stage. No. This can't be. Not my children. Not again. Please. God. No. I volunteer. I volunteer! But I can't. It's impossible.

"Katniss."

Someone speaks my name, and it's comforting. How could I find comfort in this mess? And then his strong arms grab hold of me and I turn to look into my husband, Peeta's face.

"Katniss…" He says again, eyes pleading with me. "…Wake up…" I blink up at him, trying to make sense of his words.

"What?" I say, breathlessly.

Before he has a chance to answer, everything blurs and suddenly, I'm lying in bed, drenched in sweat with Peeta hovering over me, staring.

"Hey." He says, eyebrow half-raised. "Welcome back."

He's so used to my nightmares by now; I don't know why he even attempts sleep at this point. I wake him up within the hour every time. Peeta is so much more…whole than I am.  
One day the nightmares just…stopped for him. My nightmares couldn't stay away for more than an hour. I let out a shaky breath, and push myself up to a sitting position. I glance around the room. Everything is in it's place. Reaping Day is weeks from now. Aria and Finn are sleeping peacefully in the next room and I have simply had another nightmare.I blow out air, run both hands through my damp hair, and turn to Peeta.

"They were reaped." I say simply, my voice much more ragged then I expected it to be. Peeta sighs, wraps his arm around me tightly.

"It's not going to happen, Katniss." He breathes in my ear.

I shiver.

"Aria's just twelve. Finn is six. Aria's name is in one time. There's…there's just no way."  
He says that almost like he's trying to convince himself. But I know better.

I close my eyes, wondering how on earth the Hunger Games had been re-instated in the first place.

I think back to those days when District 12 was nothing but dust, and corpses, and ash. Peeta and I lost ourselves in victor's village. That one part of our once, wonderful district became our home .Our family became Haymitch. Peeta's family was gone and my mother called once a month, but never visited. My house, that once belonged to Prim, my mother and I became home for us three. Somehow, our district rebuilt itself around us, without us, and we sat by and let it happen. Most nights we sat in front of the T.V. listening to reports from the capitol. Paylor, our new president. Better than snow. Better than coin…but there was just….. something. An inflection in the way she spoke, or the soft look in her eye that I just didn't trust. Some nights it unnerved me so much that I shut the T.V. off in anger, stalking off into a room to be alone, and some nights I just stared and stared and…waited. Waited for her to announce some terrible thing had happened, and enforce something to keep us in line.

A year passes.

Then two.

Almost all the districts, were shiny and new again and the rebuild was successful. And still, there was no backfire.

Nothing.

Then three years. Then four.

I could breathe easy again.

I could finally let Peeta touch me for longer than a second.

That graduated to kissing.

Five years passed and we were no longer sleeping while in bed together.

That sixth year, I agreed to marry him.

It was a step I was certain, I would never make, but when I looked into those eyes that held so much concern, and hope and love for me….there was only so much one girl could was a small thing. In the district, of course. My mom was there for the occasion, and it made me miss Prim so much that I spent most of the day crying in my pretty, but simple white dress, wishing she were there to see it.

I was pregnant before I even knew what happened. One day, my belly was small, flat. And the next there was a little roundness.

Peeta was ecstatic.

I was terrified.

Hadn't I always sworn I didn't want this? The marriage and children bit? What was happening? I couldn't do this. But Peeta, strong-minded, calming influence Peeta, convinced me otherwise. He told me that everything was alright now. It isn't like before. We could love them whole-heartedly. We would. We'd take care of them. It would be slowly, very slowly…I agreed with him. He re-opened the bakery in town, in my sixth month. He wanted to do something that his children could eventually take over, should they want to. Something they could learn. The way his father had taught was so happy to be working with food again, the breads, the cakes, all of it. He was so happy when he came home to me. Pregnant me. It was infectious.

I gave birth to Aria Primrose in June.

Aria was something Peeta had picked up somewhere. He didn't remember where he'd heard it, just that it had been associated with music in some way. He said that sometimes when he thought of me, he thought of my father, and the way the birds stopped singing, and baby Aria looked so much like me. Primrose, of course, because of my sister. Peeta had scrawled it on the birth certificate before I had even said anything. One of the many reasons I love him.  
She was the talk of the town really, pretty little Aria with my hair and Peeta's eyes. She enchanted everyone she met, even as a baby. And she had Peeta wrapped around her little finger.

I had never loved anyone or anything as much as I loved her. Peeta wanted more, but I just couldn't imagine going through it all again. Then on Aria's fifth birthday, I noticed the roundness again.

We'd had a party, small, like always. I was cleaning up and I just…noticed it. Like it had just appeared.

I was happier this time, more content. It had been 13 years. I wasn't afraid anymore. Though the nightmares were still around and sometimes Peeta stared off into the distance like he was seeing things I could only imagine, but we were better. And Happy.

I gave birth to Finn Cylus in December. Our Christmas baby.  
Finn, after Finnick Odair. Cylus, was Peeta's take on the name Cinna, with a twist to it. Just like Cinna had always done with my clothing. Finn was a replica of Peeta. He was very different from Aria.

Aria was independent, she strayed from me as soon as she could walk, but Finn stayed by my side as much as he could manage. He wasn't the adventurous type. He was cautious, and a thumb sucker, and the most adorable kid you could ever imagine.  
I was happy then. I had my family.

Peeta, Aria, Finn and me.

I received three years of contentment before the dark cloud rolled in.

Before everything changed.

It was late; Peeta had just come home from a long day at the bakery. Aria trailed in behind him, flour all over her face. She often followed Peeta into the bakery if she didn't have to go into school. I was rocking three-year-old Finn, to sleep when a news broadcast glared from the T.V. I turned up the volume the slightest bit. A newscaster I didn't recognize was on screen, reading from official looking papers.

"Due to recent events, President Paylor has decided to re-instate the pageant known as 'The Hunger Games.', further information will be sent out to you in the coming days, please stay tuned for any further breaking news reports."

The screen fizzled out then. That was it. No more.

My world shrank. I looked down at my son, and the only thing I could think was. 'This is why. This is why I didn't want to do this.' My precious, sweet, loving, couldn't hurt a fly, baby boy could never compete in the hunger games. I turned my head to look at my adventurous little Aria, who might like to climb trees and play in the mud, but she could never, ever, compete in the hunger games. And then Peeta's eyes met with mine, and I knew we were in the same place. Back to that day. The reaping. And then the games. I turned my head quickly, to break the connection. But it could never really be broken.

"Momma?" Aria questioned, walking over towards me and plopping herself on the couch next to me. "What's the Hunger Games?"

My throat clenched, and unclenched. How could I tell her? How could I even begin to explain?

"N-nothing you need to worry about, love. Go wash up and get ready for bed."

She frowned at me, but obeyed none-the-less and made her way to the bathroom.  
How could we have not known? What 'recent events' had we missed? Granted, we didn't spend a lot of time in town, we didn't spend a lot of time watching television, we were out of the loop up here in victors village, all alone, but how, HOW could we have missed this?

"Katniss?"

I'm jolted back to the present as Peeta touches my face. "Jesus, you're burning up." He sighs, pushing strands of hair behind my ear.

"Listen to me, Katniss." He says in a stern voice. "Finn. Is. Six." He repeats, holding my voice so that I'm forced to look at him. "Aria's barely twelve." He breathes.

"Prim was twelve." I cut in.

That freezes him for a moment, but only just a moment. "It was different back then." He says firmly. "We have status now. You know that."

Yes. The games were different now. Much different. I remember the pamphlets that were sent out to each home shortly after the games were announced. They were all colors, and exclamation points. 'The exciting new opportunity for your families! The fun and exciting hunger games!' But they couldn't fool a former victor. The pamphlet read like a cheesy commercial. Paragraphs of why the honor of being a tribute was so important to your district. Why this was not a punishment, but a celebration of unity between all.

Bullshit.

And then, the last paragraph had a heading that caught my eye.  
'Victor in your family?' it questioned.

Well, we had two.

'Being a Victor, that means Status!' The word Status was underlined three times in red.

'The children of a victor will be entered into the drawing once, for every aged year, but no more, no less. Victor families already know the struggle of a countries unity and the government will acknowledge that. If the child of a victor is chosen, there will be an option to take the case to trial and have the names redrawn in a separate private reaping.'

Essentially, Victor's children were as good as exempt, even if they were picked they had the option to fight it. And really, what were the odds of being chosen a second time, in a private reaping?

I blow out a calming breath. Okay. Peeta is right. It isn't going to happen. It isn't.  
Peeta leans in, his lips grazing my forehead and for a moment everything feels a little less…big.

He pulls away and I force myself to smile for him.

"I just…I need to go check on Aria and Finn…just…I need to see them." I stutter.

He watches me for a moment and then nods, forcing a smile back at me. I push the blanket off of myself and head for the door

"Katniss?" Peeta calls, and I turned around to face him.

"Try and come back to bed this time. Aria's bed isn't big enough for the both of you."  
I crack a genuine smile, whenever I did this, got the insane urge just to double-check on my children, I always ended up curled up next to Aria in her small bed. Just to feel her warmth. To know she was there. I only didn't do this with Finn because his bed was much smaller and couldn't fit me as well.

"I'll do my best." I whisper, before slipping out the door.

I check on Finn first.I crack open the door to his bedroom and slip inside quietly. The nightlight in the corner is switched off and I feel a little pang in my chest. Lately he'd been trying to be "grown-up" and had been trying to abandon his nightlight. He's so sensitive to his big sister's teasing about the fact that 'only babies use nightlights.', but I don't see anything wrong with Finn still being a baby. I sort of want to keep him that way. I move over to his bed, and run my fingers through his soft curly hair. I lean down, kiss his forehead. He is nothing like his namesake Finnick, but the name Finn, somehow fits him so well.  
I lean over him, pressing my lips to his forehead a second time. I turn then, switching the nightlight on. He can be afraid of the dark all he likes as far as I'm concerned.

I leave then, quietly shutting the door behind me.  
I move down the hall, pushing open the door to Aria's room. I was only half-surprised to see her awake. Aria was a bit of a night owl, but something about the look on her face made me concerned.

"Hey…" I force a smile, "What are you doing up?"

She sits up, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. "I heard you screaming again." She says as if it's the most terrible thing in the world.

I wince. My nightmares will not become hers. They won't. I let out a soft sigh, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. "It was just a silly nightmare, Aria. Nothing to worry about. I promise." , I brush my fingers along the worry lines already forming in her forehead to make them disappear.

"Then why do you have them so often?" She presses, accusingly. Like I'm hiding something from her. Like she's old enough to know, even if I was.  
I close my eyes for a moment trying to think of the right answer.

"Because…my brain likes to revisit the past…too often." I pause, reaching out to push some of her hair behind her ear. "Try and get back to sleep, love, alright?"

She watches me, eyes still narrowed like she's suspicious and then her expression softens.

"Are you worried about the reaping?"

I swallow hard. I knew they were teaching her about it in school. Preparing all the twelve year olds, but something about hearing the word 'reaping' coming out of Aria's mouth made me feel sick.

"No, love, I'm not." I say firmly, trying to convince her, and myself. "I'm not worried at all. And neither is your father, we've got our status, and…I'm just not worried, love, alright?"

She watches me for a moment longer and then nods, settling back against her pillows.  
I pull the blanket up, tucking her in.

As she closes her eyes, I begin to sing. Her favorite song, the one she used to beg for each bedtime, but the one she'd like me to think she's grown out of. I know better.

"Deep in the meadow…" I start. "Under the willow…A bed of grass…a soft of green pillow…" she smiles softly, eyes still closed and my heart warms.  
"Lay down your head…and close your sleepy eyes….and when again they open…"  
Her breathing has evened out by now, and I know she is asleep, so I whisper the last part.

"…The sun will rise."I press a kiss to her forehead, and leave her bedroom to travel back to my own.

When I return, Peeta is up, splashing colors on a canvas. It's much too late for his artwork, he never works into the night like this…unless he's stressed.

"What are you doing?" I question, curiously.

He turns to look at me, and his eyes are full of fire, almost…anger. The way they used to be before he was better. Before he was my Peeta again.

"You're not the only one who gets lost in the past." He says, his voice is unsteady, like he's falling apart.

And then I take a closer look at the painting. Somehow it's everyone. Everything that had happened to on a canvas.  
He'd managed to capture so many different stories in one, beautiful, terrible, horrifying, painting. Every time I figure out what a certain color means, or figure out what a part of the painting is depicting…it's like a knife to my heart.

Rue.

Stab.  
Prim.

Stab.  
Finnick.

Mags.

Madge.

Cinna.

Stab.

Stab.

Stab.

Stab.

It takes all of three seconds for me to cross the length of the room and rip the canvas to pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning brings silence and lots of it. Peeta doesn't speak to me. He slept at a distance, off to one side of the bed.

In normality, he sleeps practically on top of me, suffocating me. He isn't the easiest to share a bed with most nights…unless he's upset with me. And then he leaves so much space in between us we could build a whole district.

It was rare, but it happened, it was happening currently.  
"Can you pass the milk?" Aria asks, placing her empty cup on the table, her eyes swiveling back and forth between the two of us.

"Hello? Anyone home?" She presses.  
I swallow hard, turning to look at her. "Please." I say automatically.

She looks up at me questioningly, raising an eyebrow as if to suggest I'm going crazy.

"Please, can you pass the milk." I say, sternly, eyes falling back down to my uneaten cheese on toast.

Aria rolls her eyes, and blows out a frustrated breath. "O-o-o-kay." She says elongating the word to make us understand that she thought my request was beneath her.

"Can you pass the milk, please?" She emphasizes.  
Peeta pushes the jug towards her and then stands up abruptly.

Finn blinks up at him from his seat, and Aria pauses with the jug hovering over her cup.

"I've got to get to the bakery." He says, as if he's only just remembered.  
I turn and glance at the clock above the kitchen stove. It was barely eight. He didn't get down to the bakery until nine most days. He had Avery, a boy from the district start everything up for him at five.

"Now?" I question, the first time I've spoken to him all morning. "It's hardly eight. You haven't even finished breakfast." My eyes move over to his plate, two pieces of toast with the cheese melted lightly over it just the way he liked it And eggs, extra runny.

"Couldn't you stay awhile? Just to finish breakfast?" I looked up at him, pleadingly almost. If he left, we'd still be in this strange cold war, and I wanted it to end now.

He doesn't meet my eyes when he says, "I have to go and do something productive."

Ouch. He never picked at me for not working, knew that somehow it would be too much, probably overwhelm me. We never even talked about it. There it was now. Hanging in the air like stale bread. I feel the words, hard. I can feel Aria staring at me, eyes wide. Peeta never spoke to me this way and I'm sure we were completely wigging her out with all of this which is why she had the tiniest bit of an attitude this morning. I still can't bring myself to speak.

"Aria, finish up. I'll walk you into school…" He says, glancing down at her half-eaten toast.

Aria glares up at him, clearly picking a side. She thought that he was instigating all of this because of the way he'd snapped at me.  
"I'm finished." She says snappily, "And I can walk myself." She pushes off from the table and takes off for her bedroom to grab her things.

Peeta shakes head and calls after her, "I'm walking you in, like it or not!" He blows out a breath, and then breaks into a smile as he looks at Finn.

"Do you want to be my little helper today? Avery can teach you how to roll the dough today, would you like that?"

Finn nods excitedly, hoping up from the table to take his dad's hand. Of course he was excited. Finn was always too young to do anything big at the bakery so Peeta only let him sprinkle the powdered sugar on the finished cookies, or with help from Avery frost the cupcakes. Rolling dough was a whole new venture.

Aria re-enters the room, backpack slung over her shoulder. She huffs, standing in the middle of the kitchen arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't know why you guys are being so weird, but Finn and I would really appreciate it if you could stop it."

Peeta sighs, rolling his eyes and points to the door. "Go, now."

She lets out a frustrated noise and stomps towards the door.

Peeta flicks his eyes over to me and shrugs. "We'll see you later." He mumbles before following Aria out of the door with Finn.

I am alone with nothing but half-eaten toast and a jug of milk. I haven't felt this alone in years.

* * *

The one thing I love, and always will love about Haymitch, is he's always good for alcohol. You'd think, that by now, the poisonous stuff would've worked it's way through his system and done what it was supposed to. Poison.

It was like his body was somehow immune, because even now, Haymitch can drink me under the table.

"So sweetheart," He says in his gruff, gravely voice. "Things with Prince Peeta aren't going so well these days, huh?"

I roll my eyes, taking a swig of the amber liquid he'd brought over from the bottle. I winced at the burn.

"Everything is fine Uncle Haymitch," I tease him because this is the name our kids had adopted for him. Like it or not.

He laughs at me, grabbing the bottle from my hand and taking a swig himself.  
"Princess, if everything is fine, you wouldn't need any of this." He shakes the bottle in front of me and I grab onto it, yanking it from his grasp.

"Fine. What's your excuse?" I goad him, pressing in deeper than I usually dare.  
He narrows his eyes at me, and then shakes his head.

"You never did learn to control your mouth."

"Yeah, well you never learned to control yours either." I snap, taking one, two and then three gulps.

"Are you gonna sing, little bird, or are we just wasting time here?" He pushes.

I let out a breath, pushing the bottle across the table towards him, and then lean down banging my head against it.  
"Reaping Day..." I mumble, head still down on the table.

Haymitch says nothing for a long time, and then very quietly he says.

"It's weeks away."

"Three, actually." I lift my head to look at him. "And counting down."

Haymitch considers me for a moment and then he gets up, sauntering over to the sink and empties the rest of our bottle down the drain.

"Hey!" I protest, standing up to fast so that my head started pounding.  
"Relax, sweetheart. We don't need any more of this stuff if were going to be talking about the games."

I groan, "I thought that meant we needed much more of it."

Haymitch grins and then comes to sit next to me at the table.

"Little Katniss is twelve this year isn't she?" he asks.

I roll my eyes, "Aria. Her name is Aria, and yes."

"I know what her name is." He says waving me away, he pauses for a moment, thinking.

"Prim was twelve." He finally says. My eyes start to water.

"And you're too old to volunteer for little Katniss."

"Aria." I say angrily brushing away the few tears that have managed to fall away.  
Haymitch watches me bat away the tears, trying desperately to keep them at bay but more fall while I'm batting.

"That's a losing battle there, love."

I throw up my hands in frustration and let the tears fall freely, now.

"I know we have status, and Peeta says it'll be alright, and part of me thinks it will be but-"

Haymitch cuts me off. "The other part of you knows how fickle our government can be, and that by naming a new president doesn't make the intricacies of politics disappear, and it doesn't make you not the mockingjay. You'll always be that, and the government's never been particularly fond of you and now they have the chance to ruin you through your children, victor status or not."

I nod slowly, and Haymitch throws an arm around me. "Katniss," He sighs. "We take things as they come. Her name is in once. Let's pray it's not the luck of the draw. And if it is, well…we'll fight that battle as it comes."

"Or we could all just…"

"What, run?" He says raising his eyebrows at me.

I frown, "Well, it's a thought. A plan. An idea. We could do it."

"Where would we go, Katniss?" He says, using that tone that says he's merely humoring me.

"The woods. Where else?" I say, annoyance lacing my words.

"Katniss…"

"Stop saying my name!" I snap, pushing off from the table.

"Alright, alright princess, calm down." He says, hands held up in surrender. "I just think you're forgetting some important little details here."

I shrug, "Okay, spill them."

"You have a six year old." He says flatly.

Okay. Yes, bringing Finn along would be difficult but not impossible.

"We'd need food." He presses.

"I can hunt." I say simply.

He nods, "Maybe so. But all by yourself? For the five of us?"

I blink. Oh. That's right. When I originally had this plan, Gale was still a part of it.

"We don't have Gale." I say slowly

Haymitch nods, "You're catching up, Princess."

"Okay, any other reason why we can't run for our lives?" I say flatly.

"Just one. Peeta won't go."

It hits me like a ton of bricks. Because it's true. Of course, Peeta won't go. We have a good life here, he wouldn't see the benefits of running. He honestly believes we are in no danger, but then, what was that painting about last night? The words he'd said. 'You're not the only who gets lost in the past.'? My eyes shift up to look at Haymitch and I shrug.

"I don't know about that."

"What do you mean?" He looks at me with confused eyes, but just then I hear keys jingle and then a lock sliding over and I know Peeta is home.

I press a finger to my lips, warning Haymitch to be silent. He follows my warning, and as Peeta enters the room holding Finn's hand I force a brilliant smile.  
"Hi, Hello. Oh, how was the bakery today?" Finn, breaks away from his hand and runs to me, holding his arms out for me. I reach down giving him a huge hug, and then kissing his forehead.

"Momma, you smell different." He frowns wrinkling his nose. My heart sinks. I must smell like the alcohol.

"Oh…oh do I?" I question. "Um…that's…must be…dinner. I…I was cooking. Oh look at you." I change the subject quickly, rubbing some flour off his cheek. "You're always so messy when you come home from the bakery. Why don't you go wash up?" I say, ruffling his hair. He listens and then trod off towards the bathroom.

When I look up, Peeta is walking around the kitchen, he glances at me and the sniffs the air.

"It doesn't smell like anything's cooking…" He glances at the table. "Hello, Haymitch."  
"Peeta." Haymitch says plainly, they were always at odds it seemed, but friendly. Cordial.

He moves close to me and then leans closer pressing his lips to mine.  
He's definitely onto me. He's smelled it. He pulls back, looks at me for a moment, and then smiles, but isn't his normal smile. There's something different about it.

"Oh Katniss…" He says softly touching my cheek lightly for a moment. Then as if he's remembering a grocery list he'd forgotten he speaks.

"Where's Aria?"

I blink. Aria?

"Um…I don't know. Isn't…isn't she with you?" I breathe slowly in and out, to stay calm, my brain feels fuzzy and I can't quite grasp the situation.

"No…she came to the bakery after school but I sent her home hours ago. Her attitude from this morning never dissipated."

Hours ago? I'm panicking now. I shake my head hard.

"She never came home…she…she's not here." I breathe out.  
"Peeta…Peeta! She's not here!" I scream.

He grabs my arms, squeezing them tightly. "Relax. I'll go in to town. She's probably just at her friend's house, what's the other little girls name? Um…"

"Carson." I choke out.

"Right. Carson. She's probably just at Carson's house. I'll go, I'll go right now and get her, alright?"

He grabs his jacket pushing his arms through. I make a move, stumbling to get my own.

"I'm coming with you." I say firmly, trying to push past him.

"Katniss." He stops me, blocking my way with his arm. "If you're drunk in public we'll get a fine."

So he definitely knew.

"I'll go. I'll be back." He says coolly and then he's out the door again.


End file.
